The visit

It’s about to get weird up in here.

Thursday night my father visited me in a dream. Oddly enough, I have been waiting for this to happen since he died, and have been slightly (irrationally) annoyed that he hadn’t done it yet like my grandfather did the night he died (You can read about that here).

As we know, there were some “issues” between us when my dad died that caused me to sadness, anger, and confusion because our relationship had actually been great the past few years. I even answered the phone when he called every week or so and didn’t let it go to voicemail and then Facebook message him later on as I have been known to do…..

His refusal to let me visit when he was dying has run through my mind on a fairly regular basis. However, only over the past several weeks have I been able to lose the anger, and even the sadness, about it and realize those couple weeks are irrelevant to the past several YEARS.

Thursday night we stood talking in front of a fireplace (in a house/apt I’ve never been in or seen before) and he said something (I can’t remember what), causing me to say, “Dad, you know you died months ago, right?” He paused, thinking for a minute, and said, “Well, I guess that makes sense.” Then I told him what happened between us at the end and he genuinely appeared to remember any of it and seemed disappointed in himself, saying something to the effect of, ‘wow… I wonder why I would do that?’

Those last couple weeks, he was confused and disoriented most of the time, often unable to answer simple questions or recognize people he knew. So it would make sense if he didn’t remember events that took place during that period of time.

The rest of our visit was just. so. normal. We chatted like always and he was just my Dad.

The only thing nagging at me is when I said, “So… Do you like this new place?” he said, “Not particularly.” He did move right before he went into the hospital, and he wasn’t happy about it, so I hope that’s where my brain got that footage.

Yes, my brain. Because while I felt the realness of him there and the difference between that experience and my other nightly dreams. I also realize our minds are incredibly powerful and my dream could have been ‘just a dream.’

Frankly, It doesn’t matter which it was.

Socialworkishsunday: Something Happened

As a crisis worker, I spend a LOT of time in emergency departments. Up until about a year ago, I think I witnessed ONE overdose coming in, and then something happened. These days, I usually don’t get through a work shift without an overdose coming in. Sometimes they die. Narcan isn’t made of magic. Overhearing these people dying (because even if they live through that overdose…. they are still dying) day in and day out really takes a toll on me. So many people with so much life yet to live. But something happened, and now their life belongs to drugs.
There have ALWAYS been drugs and there have ALWAYS been people addicted to them. Something happened and now we have an epidemic. WHAT HAPPENED!????
I see people post the most disgusting and heartless memes recommending we just let all the drug addicts kill themselves, suggesting Narcam shouldn’t be readily available, saying ‘it’s their choice to do drugs—it’s their problem,’ etc. What if is ISN’T their choice? Do you really think ANY 5 year old out there is spinning around with their arms spread out daydreaming about the first time they get their hands on some smack? Coloring at the table imagining their first night as a homeless person? Getting ready for an 8th grade dance thinking about how excited they are to grow up and trade their first blow job for an 8-ball? No. But SOMETHING HAPPENED, and the it’s starting to seem like drugs are just as likely a future as college for kids growing up right now.
It is SO. EASY. TO. JUDGE. But I PROMISE YOU that EVERY overdose I overhear was once just a ‘regular kid,’ with hopes, dreams, crayons, and swings. EVERY overdose I overhear is someone with family members JUST LIKE YOU about to hear the worst news of their life; That any hope they were holding is gone.
We need to figure out what happened and then work on fixing it. Judging, ignoring, alienating, demonizing and ‘not-my-probleming’ is just making things so much worse.

Metaphysical Friday

First off. Let’s pretend I didn’t just spend 15 minutes finding a title for this series. Thesaurus.com anyone? Alliteration anyone?

I had a great discussion with my bff today about dreams after listening to this week’s Oprah Supersoul Sunday podcast and thinking… ‘Shit. I’m not sure I HAVE dreams! What does that even mean!?’ (As in the ‘hopes and….’ – – not the nighttime ones. I have PLENTY of those!)

Our talk got cut a bit short because of stupid work and life, but I’m still a little hung up on the difference between dreams and ‘stuff I want to do someday.’ I think the ‘stuff I want to do someday’ list could be endless!

  • Swim around WILD dolphins (Don’t even get me started on those horrible ‘swim with a sad caged creature ‘experiences’)
  • Live in someplace other than Maine, and then maybe someplace other than that!
  • Travel to Europe, Thailand, the Philippines, India (maybe), Iceland, the Galapagos (will never happen), the Island where they filmed Jurassic Park (could happen but that boat ride is a DOOZY)
  • Slide down a hill in Switzerland on that little roller coaster thingy!
  • Be less fat
  • Squish grandbabies
  • Have a parrot (Also probably will never happen)
  • Have a Jeep Wrangler
  • Ride bitch with Lonnie on a Harley
  • Sit in those cool recliney seats in first class with the screen in-between so when I annoy Lonnie and his Sudoku too much with my chatter, he can close the screen on me πŸ˜€

…..like I said, that list could go on….. and on……..

Dreams seem like they should be BIGGER.

The only “dream” I could come up with is that I would like to write a book someday. This is why I blog. I love to write and cannot wrap my head around the giant task of a whole book. My blog is my half-assed book.

Then there are daydreams. Are those dreams? My most common one (the one I fall asleep to many nights) is Lonnie and I living on a small island as caretakers of a small resort or estate. Catching fish with spears and digging for shellfish to catch our dinner to cook with stuff from our garden πŸ™‚ No internet. Naps in hammocks. Occasional trips to civilization for supplies. :::::sigh:::::